Still Alive

Still here. Still alive. There’s an update coming. It’ll be a long one.

A Cure for Madness – Update!

It’s tricky to say “part xyz” to ACfM considering I am about to skip forward quite a lot. I will explain; obviously earlier on there was a post indicating that I was not updating for a week. It took a while longer to recover the routine as I would have liked. As such, Itharian has -flown- past all of what came before it. As such, I will bring you up to speed with a shorter version;

Strangely enough, however, most of what happened after Brewfest was irrelevant. He returned to Darnassus and all that really happened is that he integrated. He started to learn Darnassian (the night elven language), became gradually more opposed to his former comrades across the sea… Well, you get the picture. In Warcraft a lot of night elven players (female characters in particular) migrate across the sea to Stormwind, where they are human-ised for various… ‘Interesting’ choices of occupation/personality etc. Itharian has reversed this, travelling to Darnassus and being elf-ised, except his reasoning is nowhere near as pathetic and contrived.

So Blizzard has brought out this pre-Cataclysm event in which doomsayers line the streets of Old Town and announce that the world is ending but they can save themselves if they join the cult. There’s a questline where you infiltrate them, end up blowing up floating elemental devices, put up warning posters etc. The roleplaying community responds instantly to such developments, as a result the slightly power-crazy upper echelones declare martial law and safe zones are introduced. Itharian was called in to cater for a patient with intercranial swelling. He did what he could, and then started to leave…

—

He trudged along the pier, his boots thudding against the wood as he approached the docked ship, leading his horse by the reins. “Itharian! Wait!” He looked over his shoulder at the sound of the voice, his gaze resting on the lightly flustered Riana, who smiled wearily, “I know you’d rather eat your own hat than stay here any longer, Ith. And I understand. But we need you here. Please; if only for my sake, we don’t have any trained doctors, as much as people would love to believe to the contrary. And the Light only goes so far.” Itharian knelt slowly before, resting a hand on the plated gnome’s shoulder, heaving a sigh, “If anyone gets in my way, I will have to go. For their sake. For my own.” She nodded, slowly, “I understand. Thank you, Ith.” He tugged the reins about, nodding down towards her, “Go on, Ria. You need the rest. Ande’thoras-ethil.” She raised an eyebrow at this, but nodded firmly. “Light bless and protect.”

‘So that’s how it is. Cultists roaming the streets preaching the end of the world. Sporadic elementals exploding out of floating devices left right and centre. And despite being gone for so long, still the only qualified physician in the place. Fine, although I give this city mere days before the inherent brigade of people who think they know better get in my way and I have to go. I didn’t abandon this shit-hole just to come back and have my brain melted a second time.

He trudged slowly and reluctantly up the Cathedral steps, ignoring all who he passed as he entered the eastern wing, sighing as the varied memories of a crammed infirmary and matching moronic carers fought for his attention; he was barely listening as the dwarf who appeared to be in charge explained where he would be working. A loud thud sounded as he dumped his enormous crate in the corner, rather representative of the contents; a mobile pharmacy as far as anyone was concerned, with some of the most advanced medicines known to science prepared. ‘Shame I have to waste them on this city.’ Procuring a mop and bucket, he cleaned off the filthy floor with a mutter; it was as if the concept of gangrene was foreign to this apparent infirmary.

‘Some things never change. Wonder if they still prescribe herbal tea for burns pain. Wonder if they still think the almighty holy light can do shit-all about chemical imbalances. Wonder if they’re still stumped when the Light can’t do it. Hells, wonder if they have yet realised that weak pulses and breathing aren’t something you can heal without a good shot of adrenaline… Augh! Stop thinking about it, Itharian, or you’ll never stay a day, let alone for an extended period of cultist and elemental attacks.

His gaze fixated on the ceiling, much to his dismay; he had grown so used to seeing the sky overheard, and his ears rotated slightly as he listened to the still rustling and bustling sounds of the city; another sound he had long since stopped missing. The lack of silence and the enclosed space slightly discomforted him as he tried to settle down upon his crate, a hand rested on his forehead. His gaze settled upon the coachgun strapped to the side, causing his fist to tighten.

‘Let’s hope you won’t feel it necessary, Ayris. You’re a doctor, not a killer.’

Going Nuclear

Well. I’m not usually a horrible bragger and this is still a pathetic excuse for an update, but sometimes you just have to share the love. As I did. Explosively.

http://img832.imageshack.us/img832/1008/hahahaaaaaa.jpg

Yes. Modern Warfare 2. Probably my faster nuclear holocaust of the eight I’ve achieved. Considering the next best person had raked up… 6, kills, when I called it in? Either way.

Damn, I’m good.

This week with the Penguin

Well. The liklihood of me getting any updates done this week is pretty much nil.

Monday, where I have no lessons, is traditionally where I do most of the writing for the blog. But, the school being as delightful as it is, places a “Well Being Day” on top of it. A particularly ironic phrase since by the end of said day I was far from feeling well. I was far worse, in fact, and I had caught a bug over the course of the weekend – although I probably caught it on Friday.

As a result I actually have to do the work I would have also done on Monday, and pack it into the wonderfully busy rest-of-week. I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t say I’m in a great writing mood. Not, that I was in a good school mood either.

>8< Spider pride

Characters in Focus: Doctor Radzi Tesla

Radzi is not my oldest character, but she certainly has the most incarnations. She is the only character I have replicated twice from the original Earthen Ring character. So why?

Firstly and probably most importantly she is a gnome; as such is a woman of SCIENCE!; and as the surname implies she is no stranger to electrocuting things. Gnomes, after all, choose their surnames based on a discovery. So yeah, by claiming that Radzi invented the tesla coil (or the tesla turret if you look at Toshley’s station) I am sort of implying that my character invented alternating current which is… Big. To say the least. So she claims to have discovered it. Claims. Yes. Arse successfully covered.

Anyway, Radzi is one of my stranger personalities due to the fact that even between three different versions – she is consistently a motherly and friendly character, although she can get a little bit irritated. She’s also rather homophobic and believes in the family ideal. All in all, she has enough well-rounded traits to be consistently good to play. Now, the incarnations.

Earthen Ring, the original Radzi Tesla. She was originally a character made for a roleplay project in Hillsbrad, when that flopped she migrates south to join the Stormwind Tribunal in.. Stormwind! That was an interesting period, serving the crown and all that. However, as happens with all people who think too much, the authority starts to look considerably less righteous in the long run. So she breaks away, and ever since has been devoted to SCIENCE! and also for finding truth. Journalism. Huh, not something I associate with truth in modern days.

Argent Dawn EU houses Radzi-2, who starts where ER-Radzi is now minus children pretty much, so there’s not much to say except she is my instrument of elitism on that sodding server.

Radzi-3 is a conceptual one, the ideal, the ultimate scientist – the ultimate tesla-tronics expert. Her aspirations. Well, who can blame her. Rest in peace, Nikola Tesla – you really died an unsung hero.

All in all, Radzi is a versatile character and it shows. She’s also the most huggable character I’ve ever created. I’m not sure how I managed it. But I did.

The Scaled Orphan (Part 1)

To say people underestimate how important Radzi percieves motherhood would be an understatement. Where a lot of people on WoW treat a child as more of a gimmick because of the way RP is, such things inevitably take up a lot of Radzi’s time – as she has Snowy, a blood child ‘and’ occasionally an oracle orphan to cater for. Between her work in labs and her children there ‘is’ no time. As such she takes being a mother extremely seriously – moreso children – as such will be majorly annoyed at anyone killing a child’s parents. Thus born is the reasoning for her actions.

—

The peculiar device hummed, the dials swinging to and fro as the gnome held the aerial against the ruined column, tiny cogs whirring in the background. She sighed, lightly scribbling a trio of incomprehensible runic markings into her notepad. ‘Just write them down’ they said. Radzi set off again with a weary sigh, her eyes sweeping over the ancient Night Elven ruins; ‘trust them to build on ley lines; also trust the blue flight to be making my job a nightmare’, she thought. Although suddenly in the corner of her eye there was a flash of cyan crystal; it looked to be jutting out of some sort of shell.

Approaching cautious, nudging her lever-pistol free, Radzi crept upon it, slackening as it quickly became clear that it was an egg; an egg of the blue dragonflight. She frowned. “Is this a trap? They wouldn’t keep it here…” Then it clicked and she smiled. Suppose it was infertile? The would make it redundant to protect. Clumsily acquiring the last recording on a random wall, well in the knowledge that it was going to make no difference, Radzi quickly heaved the egg onto her back, shuffling awkwardly toward the deactivated mechanostrider. Her ears rotated this way and that, picking up some irritated yells just as she was tying the egg to the ‘strider;

“Where is that bloody egg!?” screeched a female voice – sounding decidedly goblin – “I told you to put it here! How hard can it be?!” After this, it was only muffled complaints as her lackeys denied everything and split up to look for it. Radzi frowned, now reconsidering the infertility of the egg momentarily before being reassured by the fact a goblin was handling it. Most sentient creatures struggle to survive being transported by goblins.

Taking a brief glance over the hill, she saw that they were scouting the same few square metres of terrain around the column where the egg used to be; and lo and behold among them was a tiny, raging pea-green goblin, surrounded by completely disinterested trolls. Radzi eyed her palm as flames crept over the skin, an arcane mist forming around it and igniting; and the goblin found the patch of ground besides her erupting in a seemingly spontaneous flame. “What in the nethers was that?! Is that another dragon? We can take down another one! Where do you think we got the egg?!”

The gnome on the verge raised her eyebrows, then narrowing her eyes with a sharp growl. Taking a careful aim, tendrils of magic formed between her fingers and the air shimmered, and naught but a few seconds later, the goblin squawked; or should we say bleated? Radzi couldn’t help but giggle as the angry goblin ran around as a sheep for the best part of a minute, much to the amusement of the spectating trolls. Much to the delight of their seemingly disembodied attacker, they bunched up into a circle with the goblin in the centre. The time for playing with them was done.

A grim silence overtook the basin as the group waited, their breath held as they prepared for the next spell. The temperature in Azshara was already relatively cold, but as a blue glow came about the ground the air seemed dry as the vapour in the air froze to their faces; and in a flurry of condensing mists, large shards of ice froze in mid-air above them, and thundered down towards them. Just as they were scattering, all of the goblin’s trollish minions took a shard to the spine – or the face, and the goblin clawed helplessly at the ground as one pinned her by her legs to the floor.

As the goblin looked up with blurry eyes, blackness moving in and out of her vision as she blinked, she glared at Radzi who turned up with the egg under one arm. “Thieving gnome! You haven’t won! I’ll be back!” The gnome stared back in silence, levelling her pistol with the goblin’s face, “Nothing you say will bring the egg’s mother back. For that…”

A gunshot echoed across the basin, echoing off the ridges as birds scattered from the trees, “For that you won’t be back.”

The Scaled Orphan

You know on that last post when I said I wasn’t going to go through Snowy’s story?

I lied. Second writing project will cover her life so far. That’s a little while off, need to polish off the interlude to the other one first. However, background;

Snowy is a drake (i.e. young dragon) of the blue flight. Original egg-layer, i.e. mother, died to dragon hunters(huntards). Radzi, an aforementioned gnomish magi, finds Snowy’s egg on a routine check of ley-lines. Acquires it, thinking it infertile. She was wrong – thus is the basis for Snowy’s existance and her adoption. Isn’t that (Radzi) Tesla just so motherly, huh?